


Sick Boy

by orphan_account



Series: Song Based Fics [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Stiles, Betrayal, Bobby is a little younger, But not the traditional trope, F/F, F/M, Fox Stiles, I'm keeping the fire and changing everything else, Kira is a little older, M/M, Magic Stiles, Mates, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Murder Husbands, Not Beta Read, Post Hale Fire, Scott Gets Bitten, Slow Burn, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Vampires, What I mean by that is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-03-12 09:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13544523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter's moves from New York back to Beacon Hills for revenge. But before he kills the family that burned his, he needs a little help from the towns local spark.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I actually dont like the song Sick Boy by The Chainsmokers (it had so much potential though) but I just couldn't get this mini movie out of my head involving Peter, Stiles, and the gang. So not exactly what I thought out, but pretty good! 
> 
> Enjoy!!

The East Side of America 

 

New york was filled with millions of people but somehow make you feel completely alone. Unless you’re Peter and you like the idea of being surrounded but isolated. But according to his therapist that’s a lie. According to his therapist he’s using loneliness as a way to punish himself for surviving the fire. Survivor's guilt.

 

His therapist is dead.

 

In Peter’s opinion he should’ve learned not to play with matches and gasoline if he wanted to make it to his fiftieth birthday.  But you know what they say, those who play with fire get burned. He would know.

 

However Peter needs to go back to Beacon Hills, because apparently he couldn’t leave the place even if his life depended on it, however this time it doesnt- the Argent’s family does.

 

The West Side of America 

 

Stiles isn’t perfect by any means. The perfect way to describe his life would be he lives in a glasshouse built from the bottles of liquor his father drinks all night. But given he lives in Beacon Hills- the land of the blind eye- it’s easy for people to ignore that he basically lives with a drunk roommate.

 

Just like they could ignore when his Mom slowly started to fade away and all that was left was an insane anger and hallucinations. Or how they can ignore all of the deaths, marking “animal attack” on the cause of death. They even ignore the time a family's house was burned down in the middle of the night, and although all the doors were unlocked, the family remained inside. Ash lining the perimeter of the house- undisturbed.

 

So Beacon Hills ignores a lot, choosing to live in blissful naiativey. Which is fine in retrospect, I mean it keeps his side business underwraps, and off the police radar.

 

But Stiles can’t help but think as he looks at a tall man slide out of a sleek black car, his hair slicked back and his V-neck plunging- that even Beacon Hills can't ignore _him_.

 

Peter turns his dark blue eyes directly to Stiles and lets them slowly bleed red, a smirk pulling at his lips, “You must be Stiles.”

 

Stiles feels his eyes flash electric orange- returning a smirk of his own.

No, they can't ignore him at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its a little longer, slightly darker, and with a surprise. Hope you enjoy it!

They both sit silently in a diner across from each other waiting for the other to make the first move. Stiles stays quiet until a few moments after the waitress leaves a plate of cheese covered curly fries in front of him. He would like to blame his ADHD, but he just hates silence, especially during a business deal. 

 

“I didn’t think the infamous Peter Hale would need help in his famous revenge plan.” 

 

Stiles could’ve phrased it as a question, but he already knows the answer, Peter doesn’t need help. Nor does he want it. No Peter Hale want to know if Stiles will sit back quietly and let him do what needs to be done or will he have to add a name to the list. And since Stiles has been in the game for awhile now, he knows it won’t be his name that Peter will add- even if that would be the wiser choice. 

 

“Now Stiles, maybe I just stopped by to see how you’re doing. I know how dull it can be here, especially with little Scotty nipping at your heels to behave, almost like your his-” 

 

Before Peter could finish whatever taught he cooked up for the moment, a knife made its way into his hand, sliding cleanly right between two bones. Peters eyes flash red as he holds back a snarl, the wolfsbane on the knife causing his hand to burn, while his blood slowly rolls down his hand.

Stiles one hand still on the knife takes a bite of his curly fries before looking at Peter with a cold stare. 

 

“I would kindly suggest you keep Scott’s name out of you mouth.” Stiles starts to twist the knife slightly listening to Peter let out a his, “Cause it would be ashame if I had to put you back in the coma I took you out of.” 

 

Stiles waits a few more moments before pulling the knife out of Peter’s hand; his mask of easy going teen falling back on his face as he goes back to eating fries. Just in time for the waitress to come back to their table, her eyes quickly glance to Peter’s still bleeding hand before plastering on an artificial smile, “Do you need a napkin or gaze sir?” 

 

Peter looks to his hand then her, his eyes calculating before an easy smile takes over his face, “No I’m good, thank you. It looks worse than it is.” 

 

As she walked away Peter took a napkin already on the table to wipe of the blood from his hand, revealing smooth skin. “So,” Peter began, his eyes tracking the waitress before looking at the diner with a new light, “She was calm about that.” 

 

“Beacon Hills has a knack for ignoring the obvious,” Stiles wipes of his mouth before leaning back, “It also helps that this diner is owned by a mob family so all the employees are used to a little blood.” 

 

“Of course.”

 

“So Peter, I ask again, why would you need me in your revenge plan?” 

 

Peter stands up walking towards the door that nearby, “Well that’s the thing  _ little Fox _ ,” Stiles stiffens his eyes flaring orange for the first time during their conversation. Peter continues on as if he doesn’t smell the  _ worry _ ,  _ suspension _ , and  _ survive at all cost _ , that’s coming from Stiles. 

 

“I don’t need your help with the Argents,” Peter spating the name as if it was poison, “I just need your help picking up a poison for me.” 

 

Peter reaches the door turning around he watches as Stiles makes his way out of the booth they were sitting in. Only to be stuck by the Foxglove surrounding him. The diner shakes but Peter just smirks, his eyes holding a sick cruel joy, as he lifts a single Foxglove flower with his previously stabbed hand. 

 

“Have you heard of Silver Lupine?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the positive comments ya'll!! They really help inspire me (and motivate).   
> New Tags!!  
> \- Slow burn  
> \- Fox Stiles  
> \- Morally Ambiguous Stiles
> 
> I might change the chapter name to something more creative later.   
> Leave a comment and a kudo!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets threatened (again). And our not so friendly neighborhood Demon Wolf is in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly kind of a filler chapter just to introduce some more characters and hint at some more big bads. (Which means I may rewrite it later, I don't know) Which means no Steter interaction in this chapter! But there is Lydia. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Peter knew someone was in the rundown apartment before he even opened the door. The soft beat of a heart the only sound in the building besides his own. What Peter didn’t expect was said person to be lounging on the couch along with another intruder.

 

“I thought vampires were banned from Beacon Hills centuries ago?” Peter’s smile holding a sinister edge as he closes the door behind him, never taking his eyes of the couple.

 

Before the vampire in question could retaliate the girl sitting next to him turned her brown- almost black eyes- towards Peter. Her face hard and eyes cold.

 

“And I thought I burned all of the Foxglove in the world, so I guess none of us get what we want,” she pauses her hand lighting brushing along the only family photo Peter allows himself to keep, “Then again, you of all people should know how fire doesn’t always rid the problem.  Isn’t that right _Hale_?”

 

Peter eyes flashing are the only warning before he launches himself at the witch, his body shifted to beta form, and his claws ready. But just before his claws make contact with her face, he feels his body being slammed into the nearby wall. A cold hand tightly wrapped around his neck straining his windpipe to right before the breaking point.

The smell of smoke starts to fill his nose as the edges of his sight blurs while fading in and out. He lets himself start to struggle as he feels flames lick the bottoms of his legs, as if the flames were trying to climb his way up to his thighs- trying to reach the smoke that begun to slither down his throat. The suffocating black air cutting off the small amount of clear air Peter could obtain from the chokehold he is in.

 

“Poor _ambitious_ mac tíre. All that ambition is going to get you killed one day,” the heat of the flames intensifies, the smoke thickens, and Peter swears he can hear the screams of his late wife Amelia- then it stops.

 

“But not today,” the witch continues as the vampire lets go of a now coughing Peter, “because I need to know where you got the Foxglove mac tíre.”

 

They wait as Peter continues coughing- his werewolf healing already working on the burns on his legs and smoke damaged lungs. Finally after a few minutes he stands to full height before looking at the pair in front of him. The witch’s curly black hair falling to her shoulders, her brown eyes only a few shades darker than her skin. His eyes flick over to the vampire, how his stance takes on the appearance of unbothered and relaxed, but his green eyes cold and calculating.

Peter can’t help but think, if he wasn’t just choked out and burned by the two of them they could’ve easy have been useful in his vengeance plan later on.

But he can’t afford to have to watch his back- or neck- every few seconds, so it’s best to send them on his way.

 

“China.”

 

He watches as the witch smiles before turning to her vampire counterpart as he pulls out his phone with a roll of his eyes. Looking straight at Peter he puts the phone against his ear.

 

“ _Сделай это_.” The vampire’s Russian accent thick as if he just left Russia this morning instead of fifty years ago.

 

“So,” Peter begins, “I take it you already knew it was in China, and by the phone call you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

 

The witch smiles, her canines just a tad too sharp, “Now Peter, haven't you heard? Stiles was kind enough to let Alexander and I stay with him while we look for a place. And it would be rude to leave so soon- especially before we could repay his kindness.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Of course,” she repeats back, “So Peter, I’d hate for something like that little foxglove incident at the diner to happen again. Because it would be such a shame if I had to kill you before you could finish your little revenge plan on the Argent family.”

 

Alexander grabs her hand as they both turn to walk away. As they walk towards the door they they stop next to Peter’s family photo so the witch could pick it up. Her eyes looking over each face slowly before setting it down.

 

“If you need any extra help in your plan- that Stiles can’t cover- feel free to contact me.” Her tone suddenly more soft. 

 

Peter watches as she and the vampire silently walk out of the apartment. The only evidence of them being there being the card she dropped next to the framed family photo. Peter walks over to the table to pick up the card, only to recognize the name that’s neatly typed out on the card.

 

Raven Bloodthorn

Emissary to the Паслен clan

  


* * *

 

Vampires and magic user in general have never gotten along. Most magic users see vampires as an upset to nature's balance, others see vampires as the damned that are being punished by nature herself, and some like Stiles- don't care.

Which is why when he stumbled upon Alexander and Raven on his trip to Russia two years ago he didn’t blink when he found out they were mates. If he’s honest he was too caught up in the fact we was meeting a witch that he’s only read books about in the flesh. So if he didn’t notice that Alexander was a vampire the first few weeks- well no one could blame him.

But once he got past being starstruck he really hit it off with the witch and the vampire. They all bounded over their love for travel and food. It also helped that the three of them were all morally flexible.  

 

“It’s hard to live long and keep a black and white mentality.” he can remember Alexander saying one night.

 

What Stiles wasn’t expecting was the couple to take almost parental interest in Stiles. As far as buying out the dinner to set up connections in America through their clan and also letting Stiles use their resources for his side business. So when Stiles saw Raven and Alexander come back from their “talk” with Peter- well he knew something must have struck a heartstring while they were there.

 

“ _Дорого́й_ do you really want the responsibility of his vendetta?” Stiles could hear Alexander's exasperated tone, meaning the couple have been having this conversation the entire drive.

 

“One don’t take that tone, with me and two, yes I do. His _unborn child_ Zander, his unborn child.” Raven’s voice got louder as she made her way towards the kitchen that Stiles is standing in.

Alexander trails after her, turning her to face him before Stiles can greet them in hello.

 

“I just don’t want you to go in head first and get hurt along the way, _Голубка_ **”** Alexander’s says before placing a kiss on top of her head. Causing her to smile up at him.

 

“I know.” A comfortable pause settles before Raven turns her attention to Stiles, “Now,” she starts, “Let’s talk about Sliver Lupine.”

* * *

 

“It’s a poison.”

 

Lydia acquired the towns greenhouse last spring and has been selling flowers, shrubs, and trees to the town ever since. Well, that’s what she’s been selling to the non-supernatural inclined citizens, to everyone else she sells special plant ingredients for spells and rituals. Which is exactly what brought Stiles and Raven to her establishment.

 

“Well aren’t you bright.” Raven’s heavy sarcasm hard to miss as Stiles tries to put off the headache he knows is coming.

 

“If you know it’s a poison then you know I can’t sell it to you. I’m a neutral zone which means I don’t sell poisons what effect anyone in the community. And Silver Lupine effects one prominent part of the community.” Lydia turns to look directly at Raven, “You should know Mrs. Bloodthorn, after all you helped make it.”

 

Stiles deciding to ask Raven about that last tidbit later and focus on preventing a upcoming argument steps in to the conversation.

 

“You said you won’t sell it. Not that you don’t have it-”

 

“Not so neutral apparently.”

 

“So can you just give it to me?” Stiles continues over Raven’s jab, “Or point me in a direction to get it?”

Lydia sighs before pulling out a map and pen. She looks over it for a moment before circling a part of the North America continent.

 

“You’ll need to go to Canada.”

 

After Stiles expresses his gratitude and Raven silently gives a nod, they make their way out the shop. Lydia swallows the feeling of approaching death that fills her throat wanting to break out in a scream. She turns away from the desk and makes her way into the back room. A large man holding a gun to Jackson greeting her, his eyes bleeding a blood red.

 

“I did what you said- sent them to Canada- are we done?” Lydia’s voice strong despite the fact that the love of her life was pressed against the barrel of a gun.

 

She watches as he lets go of Jackson and makes his way towards the exit door, leading to an alleyway, while he raises his hand in a slight careless wave.

 

“That I believe we are, Ms. Martin.” His british accent sending chills down her back as she rushes to Jackson.

 

That’s the thing about Beacon Hills, you can never stay completely neutral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would ya'll feel about me making an entirely separate "story" just to give a more in depth background on this AU? Also do you think Deucalion and Peter might team up? I mean they both hate the Argents so?  
> Gaelic Words:  
> Mac tíre - Wolf
> 
> Russian Words:  
> " Сделай это" - Do it  
> "Дорого́й" - Dear  
> "Голубка" - My dove
> 
> ** All words have been translated through google translate or found on a (random) website. So if it's wrong please let me know!! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't trust Deucalion and Stiles and Raven go to Canada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter!! I tried writing a fight scene, I hope it was okay. I took off the Underage warning because I decided I wanted to age up everybody. Also I will either upload a valentines steter fic for my "I Hate Chocolate Chip Cookies" verse today or tomorrow!!

Subconsciously Peter is aware that he’s not quite all there- that some part of him was lost in the flames and that he’ll never be able to go back to the way he was before; forever seeing the world in flames and anger. And consciously he’s perfectly okay with his revenge plan, even if he can barely see past the red tint. So understandable most would have to come to  the conclusion that Peter and Deucalion get along swimmingly. Both were wronged by the Argents, both want revenge, and both currently weld the Alpha status. Making the both of them dangerous. 

 

Most would be wrong. 

 

While Peter has always had loose morals and a unbeaten ambitious streak; Peter values pack more than anything. He’d do anything to protect them and go to the ends of the earth to avenge them. Which is what puts a riff between himself and Deucalion- the infamous pack killing Demon wolf- and why they are arguing now. 

 

“You did what?,” Peter’s voice cold as his voice fills the room. 

 

Deucalion just rolls his eyes, his body spread out lazily on the couch as he flips through the channels on t.v. before looking up at Peter with a raised eyebrow. 

 

“It worked didn’t it? The little Spark is off to get your silly poison. And took the witch with him hopefully. I don’t see the issue.” 

 

Peter can’t help but think back to the counting exercise his grandmother would have him do to help his anger. How she said sometimes just taking a moment to count can prevent the nastiest of fights, and how he would roll his eyes but count anyways to humor her. 

 

He’s counting now. One, two, three. One...two...three. 

 

“And what is wrong with the Silver Lupine that I know for sure is sitting in Growing Gardens & Herbs* right now?” 

 

“There was only a teaspoon. Hardly enough for a entire bloodline. So I had her tell me where more was and I had her send the Spark there,” Deucalion’s words as even has his heart as he gave his explanation. 

 

Peter looked at the wolf in front of him, pondering his words, and thinking of the million ways you can hide your heartbeat. Because Peter didn’t trust the wolf at all- it’s hard to trust someone who would kill there own pack just for power. 

And that’s where the line draws with the two, because no matter how much Peter loves being an Alpha, he’d trade the red eyes and power in a moment if it meant he could smell his sister’s rosemary sent again. Be able to tell his nieces and nephews one more bedtime story. Or be able to listen to the heartbeat of his unborn child. 

 

The same can’t exactly be said for Decalion. 

 

“Okay,” Peter relents, his face easygoing as his mind races, “I believe you.” Both of them recognizing the lack of the word  _ trust _ . 

 

But Deucalion just hums in engorgement, “That’s all I ask,” his voice smooth as he turns back to the t.v, “After all, we both want the same thing.”  

* * *

  
  


“Are you sure y'all want the same thing?,” Raven’s voice labored as she trails behind Stiles up the snow covered mountain, the freezing weather making her breath appear as dusty smoke.

 

“We could stop you know,” Stiles walks off the trail to sit on a nearby rock before continuing his sentence, “And who?” 

Raven moves to the rock next to Stiles, sighing in gradiatuide before giving the spark a deadpan stare, “Who? Really Stiles you don’t play dumb very well.” 

 

“I actually like to think I play dumb very well, thank you very much.” 

 

“He might want the land back you know,” Raven’s voice serious as she ignores Stiles playful defense. 

 

Stiles just releases a huff. The kind that says he already thought of that the moment Peter Hale rolled into town. That he spent the last two nights recognizing the fact that Peter still is technically the rightful heir to the land. And when Peter foot touched the ground the land settled, recognizing the blood that’s been its protector for centuries. 

But Stiles also remembers Peter when he first woke up alone, on the land he protected for years, with no one- nothing- to protect him. He remembers the hallow blue eyes, the scarred skin, the desperation to leave and never return. How Peter didn’t want to go back to see the land, see the graves, see  _ himself _ . Stiles remembers it all. 

 

“If he wants it, he can have it,” his voice the only noise on the too quiet, “But he won’t.” 

 

Raven nods, her eyes looking at the still trees that stand tall on the side of the mountain, she lets her sight move over towards the surrounding land finally noticing the lack of animals and noise besides them. 

“Do you know why this mountain is called Mount Ratz, Stiles?” 

 

“Um, the guy who explored it found some small animals that sounded a lot like rats. Although people later found out it was just weird squirrels, but the name had already stuck,” Stiles tone slightly confused from the topic change. 

 

“If this mountain is famous for animals sounding like rats,” Raven starts to stand, pulling out a bag of herbs from her coat pocket, “then why is it so quiet?” 

 

Stiles heard the roar before he felt the claws in his side. Automatically he tried to throw a mountain ash circle with one hand while the other went to grab the metal bat strapped to his back. But before he could he felt a wave of magic push through his body, and what felt like the wind wrapping around his arms and legs forcing him to be immobile. The heavy pressure making his head pound and vision blur. 

The edges of his vision started to darken as what felt like cotton- but most likely a deafening spell- muffled his ears. As he felt the heavy pressure force his body down to his knees he kept taking deep breaths trying to shove down the forming panic attack that was approaching. Finally he let his eyes fall shut. Raven who had been fighting off what looked like two shifted wolves was finally taken down by a third who jumps her from behind. Causing her head to hit a rock and knock her unconscious.  

 

As a result both Stiles and Raven miss the woman approaching from the tree line, her dark brown hair falling over her polka dotted coat, and a phone in hand. 

 

“Deuc, I have the boy and the witch. Feel free to continue.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I've decided I'm going to have two "big bads" the first being the Alpha Pack, and then later on the Argent family. So that's why we are taking a slight detour on the kill all the Argent's road trip. 
> 
> So what did you think? What is Deuc planning?? Leave a comment and a kudo!
> 
> **An original establishment that was created in the wonderful place of Rain's imagination.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer makes an appearance and Stiles doesn't see three moves ahead on the metaphorical chessboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets all agree to ignore my extended absence from this fic, okay? Great!
> 
> So it's a little shorter mostly because I was the flashback I plan and Peter to have a chapter all to themselves. So expect some shorter chapters coming your way! (Like around 500 to 700 words). I hope you enjoy this chapter though!

 “You know there are rumors about the two of you?,” Stiles rolls his eyes at the guards words, while Raven stills, both already have heard their respective stories themselves.

 

 “Yeah,” the second guard chimes in his stance lax although he keeps the gun pointed towards the two captives, “The Blood Witch and the Cursed Boy. Both the strongest magic users of their times.” He cast a look towards Raven before adding with a sneer, “Well, their original times.”

 

 “Wow so you’re one of those “keep the balance perfect” wackos, well that job has already been filled, so you can move on and let us go,” was the quip the leave Stiles mouth before the butt of a gun connected to it with a harsh wraith.

 “Just like _wolf-loving trash_ to defend The Bloody Witch, after all-”

 

Stiles manic laugh as he spits out fresh dark blood cuts the hunter off. His eyes starting to take on a orange glow as the aura of shifter magic gets stronger in the air. Raven watches with a small smile- her binds glowing as they start to break under new conflicting magic- as the hunter starts to take a step back while raising his gun. Raven lets her eyes stare over the blood left on the ground next to Stiles feet watching as it boils at the same rate it takes the guard to drop his gun from his heat burned hand.

 

The snapping of Stiles bounds are what drags her gaze from the no blood clean floor towards the boy next to her. His eyes still burning bright orange as his face starts to narrow stopping just a moment before his full beta shift. Giving him the appearance of a demon. Stiles lets a low growl release from his throat as his lips pull back from his razor sharp teeth. His body slowly stalks towards the hunter laying on the ground who has his hand curled to his chest.

 

But before he could reach him the hunter sprung out pressing a white cloth covered in purple flowers against Stiles mouth. Causing Stiles to stumble back- his hands going to his throat as he started choking. As he swayed his foot caught on the forgotten chain causing him to fall back to the stone ground. Sufficiently knocking him out.

 

 “I’m glad to see that, that particular rumor is true,” a feminine voice calls from the shadows, “I guess he isn’t a cursed boy after all, but rather a cursed _fox_.”

 

At the voice Raven lifts her head from looking at Stiles fallen body, her eyes searching the shadows until she falls on a hidden figure. Feeling as if their eyes are locking Raven lifts her chin in a defiant glare, her shoulder automatically preparing for a fight even though she herself is tied down.

“Ah,” Jennifer calls out as she steps into the light, “Now that’s the Raven Nightshade I remember. What’s it been- a few centuries now, cousin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dunnn Dunnn DuNNNNnnNNN! My first (not really) creative liberty I'm taking. Yep Raven isn't the only hundred(s of years) old witch around. And what do you think they mean by Blood Witch? 
> 
> I'll see ya'll next week!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get our first flashback!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no good excuse why it took me so long to get this chapter out. I might take it down and rewrite it but I figured something is better than nothing. Again I am so sorry for the very long wait!!

Beacon Hills is the only place were a boy can almost level the town at ten and not a word is mentioned. The only place where children die in a bloody sacrifice and aren’t mourned. The number of animal attacks and missing persons reports alone are enough to make a normal person scratch their head.

 

People in Beacon Hills aren’t normal.

 

Normal doesn’t survive Beacon Hills- the oblivious aware do.

 

Which is why after a week of Stiles being missing people were surprised to see a stranger walk towards the Sheriff's house. You see the town hadn’t missed the way the Sheriff’s breath always smelled of whiskey. Or how before the nogitsune the young hazel eyes boy carried bruises the size of fist. They just turned a blind eye, kept their head low, and hoped the supernatural would leave them be.

 

But a stranger who looked of rage walking towards the drunken Officers home was enough to granger the attention of the most oblivious aware. It didn’t help that in tow was Scott McCall, the bumbling True Alpha. Who- although known for truly being oblivious- looked upset for good reason.

 

So Beacon Hills did what it always did. Lined its doors with wolfsbane and drew the curtains shut, but making sure to leave a single blind open to know what happens next.

  


Peter know the town was watching him and the McCall boy make way to John’s home. Unlike the True Alpha behind him he knew just how aware of the supernatural the townspeople are. But he still refrained from popping a claw at Scott just because it’s better to leave doubts in the town than confirm suspicions.

 

“Why are you here Peter?,” Scott’s voice practically a scowl all on it’s own, “We made a deal!”

 

Peter can’t help but roll his eyes before stopping in his stride momentarily to turn to Scott.

 

“I made a deal not to take back the land _Alpha_ ,” his voice spitting out the title in mockery, “I never said I won’t come back to visit my favorite little spark.”

 

As Peter turns back around to continue walking he can hear Scott make a frustrated grunt. And no matter how dire the situation, something about one getting on McCalls nerves will always be a joy. However to Peter’s suprise Scott didn’t make a retaliating comment but chose to walk in silence.

 

The stench to John Stilinski's house smelt of a mixture of a liquor store and a field of vomit. It was frankly disgusting and made Peter (and Scott) question Stiles recent housing cleaning choices. Both couldn’t fathom the boy letting the house get this bad, not the house that his Mother loved all too much.

 

That was the first sign.

 

Peter lifted his hand to knock before being stopped by Scott’s hand. Causing Peter to cast a dark glare towards Scott, regretting the deal he made with Stiles more than ever.

 

“Listen du- _Peter_ , he’s not the same since you left,” Peter lifts his eyebrow in response, “Stiles going through- nevermind, the point is I should knock. He won’t immediately slam the door and yell if it’s me.”   


Peter always being a man to get things done, backed away letting Scott take the lead- even if it made the Alpha in him brustle. He let his eyes take in the state of the house more closely. The loosened shutters, fraying drapes that can be seen from the windows, the overfilled mailbox.

 

It made Peter wonder what exactly happened after he left.

  
  


_Peter watched as Stiles eyes slowly fade from black back to their natural whiskey, bringing attention back towards his way too hollow eyes and sunken cheeks._

 

_“Stiles…”, Peter made an attempt to reach out towards the boy. Which in that moment is exactly what he looked like, a boy with way too much resting on his shoulders. As if one more trouble will finally cause him to crumble._

 

_“Don’t….Please,” Stiles weakened voice spoke out just before Peter touched him._

 

_“You need to get help Stiles, you’re dy-”_

 

_“Dying, I know.” Stiles cut off with a bitter laugh, “ But what do I say to the pack? “Hey guys the nougusne never left, it’s just trapped inside me bound by my life?”, I don't think so.”_

 

_Although Peter could hear the strength and sarcasm in Stiles’s words, he could also smell the overwhelming fear emminting from him at the mention of telling the pack. The same pack that locked him in a place far beneath the grounds of Beacon Hills. The same pack led by a boy who turned a blind eye to his friend being torchered._

 

_“Let me help you,” Peter pleaded. But Stiles just gave a crooked grin- although tired._

 

_“And let you cash in your favor so soon?,” Stiles just shook his head before turning to walk away, “Goodbye Peter Hale.”_

 

_Peter took an aborted step towards Stiles before noticing the approaching lights of the town police. Finally taking a look at the fallen and torn bodies around him he let his eyes flash red once before transforming into a wolf and making his trek eastward._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean it IS a Wednesday, just not LAST Wednesday:)))) (More like :(((( ) 
> 
> I'm sorry! Also warnings in the bottom notes!<3

Raven has always had her secrets. Mistakes she made in the past that were best left buried next to the remains of his fallen coven. Drowned out by years of denial and guilt. However nothing hurt more than losing the last remaining member of her family, and the only person on the world from that time-  _ her _ time. To lose Jennifer. But looking at the manic energy behind her gaze and the dark aura that wraps around her last remaining blood relative in the world; Raven can guess that Jennifer doesn’t hold the same sentiments. Not anymore. 

 

“What do you want, Jennifer?,” Raven’s tone defiant despite her circumstance. The bounds around her wrist, although slightly loose from Stiles use of magic earlier, still encasing her wrist successfully binding her to the floor. And keeping her magic trapped inside her for the time being. 

 

“I want money mostly, but also the power that comes with killing the strongest,” Jennifer pauses before killing the steel shackle on Raven, “Well formally strongest, witch alive.” 

 

Raven watched silently as Jennifer pulls out a knife, the shine of the metal reflecting the light coming from the tiny window places right under the high ceilings. Casting a worried glance towards still knocked out Stiles, Raven starts trying to wiggle out of the shackles as quietly as possible. 

 

“And although I can’t kill you yet,” Jennifer continues on, unaware of Raven’s movements, “My Alpha wouldn’t appreciate that. I can still hurt you. Maybe a cut for every wrong in your long, long, life?” 

 

* * *

Peter was a killer. His job as the Left Hand meant that mercy was something he couldn’t pass out like a endless source. And as a result his idea of morality is colored in red and grey, sometimes just to combine and transform into the darkest shade of black. He’s okay with his past, has even learned to forgive himself for some of his actions, and at his age now developed an understanding of who he is. And also what he has become.

 

Peter Hale is a killer. And he is a murderer. 

 

But he’s never abused a child.

 

The Sheriff sits in front of two very different Alphas. And in his rare sober moment he can see their similarities and their differences more clear in this moment than anytime before.  Both became Alpha through sheer will. One was willing to kill, and one was willing to refrain. They are both willing protect the town till their last breath. One by riding any problem that may cross the town line- once tricked and twice as distrustful. And the other by forging alliances so no one has a reason to fight. 

The only thing possible that could bring them truly together like this was Stiles. 

 

Stiles….

John felt a slow panic rise in the back of his mind, a panic that’s fighting through his hangover, like a fish swimming against the current. He knows he forgetting something- no someone. He lets his eyes finally take in his surroundings; the dirty dishes, leftovers on the counter, the layer of dust covering the only picture of his late wife. The picture Stiles would always keep in pristine care. 

 

Stiles… 

 

Where’s Stiles? 

* * *

Beacon Hills has always been a battleground for supernatural war. Over the generations the land has been protected, sieged, withheld, and freed by all that could possibly walk the earth. The truth is that the land has no sense of true loyalty. Only fleeting feelings of mercy and swift hot strikes of rage. 

 

_ The sounds of an estranged wolf’s howl rings out just outside of the small secluded town. Just directly outside of the two Alpha’s of Beacon Hill’s hearing range. _

The land is soaked in the blood of sacrifice from innocent and guilty alike. The land has never known true peace and has lost its desire for any long ago. It’s nurtured chaos from the ground and summons war from above. 

 

_ Responding howls can be heard surrounding the town. Their call filled with crazed passion, as dark as their blood red eyes. Dawning a grossest the estranged wolf shifts back to a man, tall and poise, but dangerous just the same.  _

Beacon Hills has always been a battleground for supernatural war. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:
> 
> \- Light implication of Child Abuse. 
> 
> Okay so I'll just stop making scheduling promises, because life just keeps hitting me every time I do. BUT How did you like the Alpha Pack intro? Hope it was as cool as it sounded in my head lol! Also for those wondering wtf are the Argents, they will make an appearance post-Alpha Pack.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter isn't happy, but who's really surprised by that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The came out a lot faster than I planned if I'm honest.

“How do you not know where Stiles is?!” Peter voice rings out in anger,causing the sheriff to flinch away slightly. John looks over towards Scott, only to find the Alpha looking just as upset- even if he is managing it better than the older Hale. 

 

“I’ve..” John pauses, his voice gruff and strained with guilt, “been busy…” 

 

Peter just scoffs in disbelief. John tries to fight of the shame that begins to color his neck in a dark shade of red at a steady pace. In a last ditch attempt to show he wasn’t to blame or at the very least not the only to blame John looks towards Scott and clears his throat. 

 

“Why wasn’t he with you?,” his tone trying to imitate the fatherly disapproval of years ago, “You’re his pack right?”

Scott’s eyes flash a ruby red before he gives his head a slight shake. He gives a side eye to Peter before answering, his voice filled with tension, “Stiles hasn’t been apart of our pack in five years Sheriff.” 

 

No one comments on how Scott said Sheriff instead of John, letting everyone in the room know that by default John has not been in the pack for five years either. The room falls into silence as everyone in the group starts to fully grasp the situation that is currently happening and has been for the past week. 

 

Peter can’t help but wonder what the hell exactly happened since he left Beacon Hills five years ago. He wants to know how Stiles who is like brother to Scott can no longer be in his pack- especially since he sacrificed so much for it. But most importantly he wants to know how Stiles- who from Scott’s tone- has been cast out from the pack, managed to still keep such a good relationship with the owner of Beacon Hills local greenhouse. 

 

“Does he still talk to anyone from the pack Scott?” Peter ask in a contemplating tone. 

 

Scott pauses before he answers, finally showcasing his grown maturity, letting his thoughts go over each of the pack members most likely to go against his orders when it regards Stiles. And he can only think of two. 

 

“Malia and Lydia,” His tone certain, “They’d be the only one who might still keep a friendship despite what all happened. So maybe they might know where he is?” 

 

But Peter was no longer listening after Scott mentioned Lydia’s name. His mind already flashing back to Deucalion, the man who  _ insisted _ on having Lydia send Stiles to Canada. How he claimed there wasn’t enough Sliver Lupine in Beacon Hills to do any damage. The older Hale didn’t realize he was beginning to growl until he felt Scott shift into a defensive position. He didn’t stop though. Instead he quickly stood and made his way out the front door, his eyes stuck in a dark blood red. 

 

Scott rushed out after him, his Alpha instinct to protect his pack flaring like a well lit flame, “Where the  _ fuck do you think you're going _ ?” The younger man quickly brings himself to a screeching halt once Peter turns around to face him, his teeth sharp and eyes a blaze. Almost as if it was six years ago again and he’d just came out of his coma. 

 

“I’m going to find the man responsible for this,” Peter makes a slow step closer towards Scott, “I’m going to torture him for betraying me,” Peter lets himself shift a little his claws elongating, no longer caring for keeping the doubts of Beacon Hills, “ _ Then I am going to kill him for trying to hurt Stiles _ .”  

 

Scott feels himself relax when he hears “him”, letting him know that his pack is not in any danger, though he has a feeling that they were involved in some way. But that’s a focus for later, because right now he has to prevent Peter from killing another living person. 

“I can’t let you do that,” Peter rolls eyes and sneers in response. 

 

“As if I’d let you have a say in anything I do.” 

 

But Scott stands his ground, all of sudden losing the boyish looks he wears with pride, and taking on a calculating look of an Alpha who has finally earned it’s title. “This is my land, in case you forgot, and you’re a guest. So I don’t care how you feel about what people can or can’t “let” you do. You aren’t allowed, and literally have no grounds to stand on.  _ You left _ .” Scott's eyes flash in a final warning and Peter finally shifts back to fully human. 

 

Peter looks at the man who he turned all those years ago in a fit of desperation. He looks at his posture and how he holds himself, standing tall and certain. He gives a little chuckle before turning slightly away. 

 

“You’re right, I’m sorry Alpha McCall,” Peter respectfully apologizes, finally letting Scott relax fully. 

 

Scott gives a nod before opening his mouth, “So who is it that took-” 

 

Peter lunges at Scott in a full smooth shift from man to wolf- his jaw open. 

 

A wolf's cry for help rings out in broad daylight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I should make Scott a bad person? Like for the first time I think I might actually write Scott as a good person and maybe even a good Alpha.


	9. Not A Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You probably saw this coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry:(

First I want to say thank you to the 115 people who left kudos and 3427 (as of Dec. 29th 2018) people who read this. This was my first ever "long" fic, and you all definitely pushed me to keep at this story and try to make it amazing. 

That being said, I'm discontinuing it. Frankly I bit off more I can chew with this fic (look at all the tag!!! Ugh) and the way the story goes everywhere and nowhere defieintly shows that. 

So I'm orphaning this. I thought about just outright deleting it, but I love how I wrote some of this story (The café scene was actually pretty badass). So I think I'll leave it up sp if someone wants to continue it, donwload it, ~~_warn people about it as a cautionary tale_~~ \- they can!

**This is going into effect as of 8:00 AM CST.**

 

Good News though! I'll be remaking this story. (New name, better plot) the way it was _supposed_ to be the first time round. However I won't be posting it (on here) until its done. So look out for that ;) 

So until then, I will be updating Don't Touch The Silence and I'll Brave Christmas For You on here only! 

 

Thank you and hope you have an amazing New Year!!<3

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this, I'm not sure yet. Leave a comment on what you think!!


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